Changes  France x England
by talinsquall
Summary: England calls on old friends to help. Unfortunately, his brothers got to them first. France/England. America/Canada. Past France/Joan of Arc. Shonen-Ai, Incest, Possible OOC, Mpreg ONLY AFTER PART I , Angst, Cursing
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This will be an Mpreg story, but it will be split up. The Mpreg will be in the second part. Damara and Brigid/Brigantia are Celtic fertility goddesses. Damara's job is to bring peace and harmony to quarrelsome households. Yeah, I feel sorry for her in this story. Loegria = Old Welsh name for England. Gaul = Old name for France. Translations listed at the end.

**Story set two weeks after "Changes - America/Canada." For this fictional story, due to the 2010 UK general elections and continued recession, England's health has hit an all-time low.**

Fandom: Hetalia

Summary: England calls on old friends to help. Unfortunately, his brothers got to them first.

Pairings: France-Francis/England-Arthur, mentioned America-Alfred/Canada-Matthew

Warnings: Shonen-Ai, Possible OOC, Future Mpreg (not this chapter), Cursing

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fan fiction.

**Changes - France/England (Part I) **

XXX

Arthur attempted to keep his breath down to a low wheeze as he dragged his weakened body to the makeshift dresser/altar next to the bed.

France had closed the bedroom door only five minutes ago and the faltering nation knew time was limited before his spouse returned.

England swore at shaking hands which refused to light the small candle in front of his face. It also didn't help that he saw three candles instead of one. "Please… Please! Light! You blasted…!"

Burning two fingers in the process, the ill man finally lit the candle. In relief, he slumped sideways to the floor. Ancient half-remembered prayers flowed from chapped lips.

"Oh me! Oh my! Why did you not call on me sooner, Loegria? All my worshipers sailed away a long time ago. Your problems are too big and I am too small to help you. America will not listen anyway. He pretends not to see me."

Arthur smiled up at the small worried girl who currently held his feverish head in her lap. "Matthew, then. Remember him? He picked flowers with you the last time he visited. Alfred will listen to Canada. They are one now."

The old goddess of Beltaine, named Damara, clapped tiny hands together with a giggle. "Yes, I remember. I liked him. He smelled of sweetness and snow."

Encouraged his immediate family would be put aright, England began to nod off to Damara's humming. Her next spoken words almost stopped his heart cold. "I am sorry, Loegria. The illness of the land shall worsen far more before Spring returns. The great strength your beloved Gaul bestows upon you cannot hold back the tide much longer. I will call to Big Sister. She will come and make all well again."

England rallied what little strength he had left to raise a feeble protest. "Nooo, not her. Anyone, but her…"

"Heh. Look at this sad excuse of a country. If you were a fish, I'd throw ya back."

Damara half-turned with a glowing smile. "Gee, that was quick, Brigantia! Were you awaiting my call?"

Arthur flopped back and covered blood-shot eyes. "No. She was waiting for my call. Not that I ever would. Blessed Saint Brigid. Saint Bride. All this time, you've helped my brothers, Ireland and Scotland. What do I get for my years of secret worship? Nothing."

Resting her ever-present sheaf of wheat to the side, Brigid crouched down to lay a wicked ear twist on the whining country. "Yes. Emphasis on secret. Like a mistress on 'church meeting' night. Unlike you, your brothers have worshiped me honestly from olden times to today. So tell me, Loegria. Why should I grant you the sacred boon of additional life?"

Rubbing his ear with a snarl, Arthur wrestled himself upright. The petite form of Damara, behind him, straining to help. "For my brothers! For my love, Gaul, now called France! For my sons, Alfred and Matthew! Lastly, for my suffering people! I pray thee, Blessed Brigantia, grant my humble boon!"

Brigantia stood, staring at the pleading country. Arms crossed against her chest. "Boy, that was pathetic. You really are out of practice."

Showing rare anger, Damara stood up, making Arthur flop back with a cry. "Oh sorry, Loegria. Sister, you took the offerings! You have to keep your promise!"

England glared at the ceiling with a sense of impending dread. "I know I'll regret asking this. What promise?"

Brigid bent over, frightening Arthur even more with a serene smile. "Apparently, your brothers can read the atmosphere better than you can. They prayed for your well-being before general elections even started. Didn't they tell you?"

Arthur felt too exhausted to curse. "My brothers prayed for me? Then your cure will definitely be something horribly painful and extremely embarrassing for eons to come."

Brigid straightened up with a shrug. "No skin off my back. Damara, hold up this mostly-dead carcass for me. I'll need you as a conduit. Oh dear. You've gotten paler, sister. You should call on me more. My followers have grown recently. I have more than enough power to share."

Struggling to place England back in a sitting position, Damara blushed. "The soldiers praying overseas need your blessings more than I do, Brigantia. I may be small, but I'm hearty. I will be all right."

Brigid/Brigantia, Keeper of the Sacred Flame, embraced her little sister, who personified youth and innocence, and the poor sap, called Arthur, cursed to suffer all his country's follies and woe. "Enough with the blarney. We're family. We take care of our own."

Arthur smiled, sensing the barely remembered power of the Ancients flow through him once more. "Too damn right."

XXX

"_Listen up, Loegria! When the man with the face like a goat returns, you do what comes naturally and let the cure take effect."_

"_Brigantia, the Gaul's name is Francis."_

"_Francis. Sperm donor. Same thing."_

"_You still haven't told me what the cure is, you malicious witch." _

"_And spoil the surprise? Not on your life. Not that there's much left. Oooh, I smell a Frank on the horizon. Time for us to go!"_

"_She means well, Loegria. Do not worry. Oh! America has finally allowed Canada to rest for a little while. I shall go visit him in his dreams. Is there anything you wish to say?"_

"_Tell Matthew to be strong and Daddy and Papa love him."_

"_Silly Loegria. He already knows that."_

"_Yes, but it's nice to be reminded."_

XXX

"Arthur? Tu es réveillé? Votre roc de l'amour est de retour!"

Placing his book on the bedside table, England rotated his head and moved his shoulders to work the kinks out. After the goddesses left, he realized he felt more alive and, oddly, warm all over. "Rock of love? I'm an ill man, France. Don't make me use my last strength to choke you to death."

"Ah! There are the dulcet tones of ma douce Angleterre! The broth is ready. Perhaps we may swallow a little without it coming-"

France walked in, holding a full tray, with a smile on his worn face. One glance at Arthur, naked on the bed, and the tray crashed to the floor. "Un bel ange du ciel."

Arthur tilted his head and smiled at the tent poking through his husband's too tight pants. Yep, after all these years, still got it.

Reclining back, England executed a full-body stretch. "You were saying something about swallowing and coming?"

Francis clenched his fists, shutting his eyes against the intoxicating sight. "Non! The illness is too far gone, Angleterre. I will not let you seduce me. The last time, at the Summit, you fainted. When your eyes refused to open for so long, I felt my soul leaving with you."

"France? Francis? Look at me. Please?"

France could never deny England when he used that voice. Opening his eyes, he relished in the wonderful view Arthur gave him.

Returning Francis's loving gaze in full, Arthur opened his arms. "I feel better today, and if I feel weak while we're doing it, I'll tell you. I swear."

Tearing his clothes off in two pulls, Francis was on the bed and in Arthur's embrace in a flash. "Once, mon amour. Then it is rest for you."

Arthur's emerald eyes lit up with a strange fire. "Oh no, you lazy Frog! You've shirked your husbandly duties for two whole weeks. I demand restitution."

Francis wiggled his eyebrows along with his hips. "Two weeks? Pfft! La France ne jamais abandonner!

Feeling the strange warmth inside grow stronger, Arthur responded with a deep kiss and a growl. "We'll see about that."

XXX

Yep, still online translator. Still suck.

Tu es réveillé? Votre roc de l'amour est de retour! - Are you awake? Your rock of love is back!

ma douce Angleterre- sweet England

Un bel ange du ciel. - A beautiful angel from heaven.

mon amour - my love

La France ne jamais abandonner! - France never gives up!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Planned on making this all FR/UK, UK's brothers, and bring in a cameo of US/Canada at the end when the baby was born. Finish it all up with this one chapter. Don't ask me what happened. Been thinking of ways to make Alfred less assholish, but so far it hasn't worked. I'm American, by the way. Sigh. Damara is the Celtic fertility goddess for Beltaine and the merry month of May. **Papa = France. Dad/Daddy = England**

**Translations listed at the end.**

Fandom: Hetalia

Summary: England prayed for additional life. Prayer granted… with a slight twist.

Pairings: France-Francis/England-Arthur, America-Alfred/Canada-Matthew

Warnings: Shonen-Ai, Incest, Possible OOC, Mpreg, Cursing

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fan fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

**Changes - France x England (Part II) **

XXX

A full day-and-a-half passed.

The heated lovemaking continued as faint moonlight glowed through the curtains.

France finally attempted to end the madness by pulling away. "Angleterre, we must stop. This is killing you!"

Mindless with desire, England reached for France's vital regions. Emerald eyes feverish with want. "How dare you! Mine! Give it back!"

Pushing with all his strength, Francis fell off the bed, cutting his hand on the forgotten broken soup bowl. "Merde! Arthur, what's gotten into you!"

The frightened panic in France's voice brought England plummeting back into reality. Clawing hands fell back onto the bed.

Mind clear at last.

The confusing jumble of instructions left to England by a patronizing _fertility _goddess suddenly fell into place.

Rolling himself into a fetal position, Arthur looked at his concerned spouse with troubled eyes. "Oh, my love. I think I may have made things worse instead of better."

Francis crawled back to palm Arthur's face with his uninjured hand. "How could it get any worse?"

England closed his eyes. Two tears trailed down to wet France's hand. "You'll see."

XXX

Canada awoke with a start and a groan. "A-A-Alfred, you promised. I need more rest. Still sore…"

America licked and nibbled along a pale shivering body. "It's been five hours, Mattie. I went to a meeting. Talked to the Boss. Now this good boy wants his reward. Mmm. Taste so sweet. I swear you sweat maple syrup."

Matthew burrowed further into the mattress. "No, not there! It's dirty."

America's light chuckling intermixed with Canada 's pleasured whimpers. "Damn, Papa tried to shield you from everything. Perverted hypocrite. Good thing I was raised by Dad instead. Uh-Uh! Don't try to crawl away. We're just getting started."

Matthew used the sheets for leverage, while kicking his feet. He stopped when he felt his brother suddenly tense up. "Alfred?"

"Tell whatever it is to go away."

Canada turned in place. Blue eyes scanned the room to alight on a small, familiar figure. "It's Dad's friend, Damara. She's the goddess I was telling you about, Alfred. She won't hurt me."

With one hard yank, America had Canada wrapped in his arms. "If she's Dad's friend, she'll hurt me. Tell her to go away now."

Matthew ran his fingers through wheat-colored hair. "Alfred, we're married. I'm not going anywhere."

America relaxed, sensing the presence had left. "Dad and Papa don't approve of us. No one approves of us. I know I'm a shitty husband, but I'm trying! Papa calls every frickin' day. He can't wait for you to wise up so he can get his 'Petit ange' back."

Matthew petted Alfred's back, hoping the action would help calm him down. "Well, there's no wising up to be done. I'm with you till the end. I'll tell them both when we go visit."

Any hope Canada had of calming America down immediately exited the bedroom.

"Why the fuck would I be visiting the only two people in the world who have the power to take you away from me?" Alfred's blue eyes turned from sky-blue to gunmetal grey.

Matthew felt his heart begin to race with fear. "Damara told me Daddy needs our help."

Alfred snorted. "Daddy can die for all I care. You saw how he backstabbed me during the last World Meeting."

Canada refused to meet America's eyes. "Dad told the truth, Alfred. It was your banks who helped screw up the World's economy."

America's unconscious grip on Canada's arms made him cry out with pain. "You too! I swear I didn't know what they were doing! Why doesn't anyone believe me?"

Matthew pushed against an unyielding chest. "Alfred, my arms! You'll break them!"

Alfred instantly let go of the bruised biceps, but then hugged Matthew's waist. "Oh fuck! I'm sorry, Mattie. I'm sorry."

While Canada sobbed through the hurt, his dark blue eyes slowly roamed the room to find the better hidden solitary figure still waiting for some good news. "Dad's not getting any better and Papa needs me. Please let me visit them."

America began to shake his head no. The motion was stopped by a fast maple syrup-scented hand below.

Alfred shuddered with renewed lust. Anger and frustration momentarily forgotten. "What do I get, Canada? What's in it for me?"

Matthew ignored the screaming pain lancing up his arms to lay soft kisses along Alfred's besotted face. "The thing I swore I would never let you do… I'll let you."

America's face lit up like the sun.

In two seconds, Alfred had Matthew on his back. Strong hips moving in concert with his brother's hand motion. "Okay, Mattie. We'll go see the old people, but I get mine first. Deal?"

Canada reached up with his other hand to bring America down for a deep French kiss. "D'accord."

Matthew gave a small nod to an excited Damara who had waited patiently in the corner all this time. Once she dissipated, he resumed his marital duties.

Alfred enjoyed his spouse's caresses. None the wiser.

Canada closed his eyes, feeling rough hands sling his legs over rock-hard shoulders.

America had it all wrong.

Papa hadn't shielded his little angel at all. He had merely educated his son differently.

Matthew smiled as pleasure raced up his body past the pain.

Manipulative sweetness always won out over brute force in the end.

XXX

England softly nudged France awake.

Francis kissed the area over an unnaturally fast beating heart. "You seem a little better. Pourquoi est-ce?"

Arthur played with the golden hair brushing his chest. "I was given good news in my dreams. Matthew will be visiting soon."

Francis's whole body stilled. "Did the messenger tell you how he was doing?"

Arthur snuggled closer. "She says he survives through kindness and love. Just like you taught him to."

Francis began to shake with frustration. "Kindness, yes. My little angel is nothing but kindness. Love? Mon Dieu, Arthur! Those ways were only meant for survival!"

Arthur rocked Francis in his arms. "Survival is what we nations do best."

France ran warm hands over smooth skin. "Matthieu will not be visiting alone. Our other son will no doubt be his constant shadow. You raised him in your image, Angleterre. He thinks like you. How do I convince Matthieu to leave him for good?"

England ceased rocking France.

Arthur never felt offended by Francis's harsh words concerning Alfred. They were the absolute truth.

In his youth, especially during the Pirating years, England had been a malicious, cutthroat bastard. Just ask Spain or any of his other colonial holdings.

Thinking back on those times, Arthur thought what would happen if some well meaning person attempted to convince Francis to leave him. The overwhelming fury rocked him to the core.

Francis pushed himself away when his mate began to gasp for air. "Arthur! What is it?"

England took a few deep breaths. "I confess. I proudly raised Alfred to be like me. I wanted to make sure my boy could survive whatever came his way and he has so far. I'm sorry Matthew has to suffer for it.

Grabbing the sides of France's face with a surprisingly strong grip, Arthur floored his husband with a heartfelt kiss. "If anyone tried to convince you to leave me, I would take great satisfaction in giving them an extremely long and painful death."

Francis looked to the side. "This brings back memories. Shall I get out the whip or prepare for the paddle?"

Exhausted by his efforts, Arthur's head hit the pillow. "No, I'll simply tie you to my bed again and ride you like a horse."

France laced his fingers with England. "Am I worrying too much about Matthieu?"

Arthur gazed where their fingers intertwined. "With Alfred? We can never worry too much about Matthew."

Francis leaned in to kiss Arthur between the eyebrows. He then laid the couple's joined hands over England's warm lower belly. "So we have raised an angel and a devil. Perhaps it is time for another angel. Yes?"

England seemed to deflate even more into the bed. His sad eyes looked up to the ceiling. "A healthy baby is all I ask. My life for a healthy baby. This I swear."

Francis quickly gathered his depressed spouse in his arms. "A pledge you will not have to keep. Our sons will make sure of it."

Arthur looked to Francis for reassurance. "When the time comes, if you have to choose…"

France shook his head. "No, Angleterre. That is a human's decision. We are Nations. You and our blessed child will survive. This I swear."

Arthur hid his face against Francis's neck. "Well, you can take your bloody confidence and shove it. I'm terrified. Look at Greece and Egypt. One's a cat-loving narcoleptic. The other one's a mute."

France couldn't help himself. "We must think positive, mon amour! Look at what fine men Feliciano and Romano grew up to be."

England's eyes squinted with half-hearted malice. "A one-parent family. I did it before. I can do it again. I'll tell the baby you went out one day and got eaten by a bear. Matthew actually believed me for a week before you remembered where we lived."

Francis held a near-delirious Arthur close to his heart. "Oh, Arthur! Life shall never be boring with my sweet Angleterre!"

XXX

**Broad Translations:**

Merde! - Shit!

'Petit ange' – little angel

D'accord. - Agreed, Okay

Pourquoi est-ce? - Why is this?

Mon ange – My angel

Mon Dieu – My god

mon amour – my love


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: More details of the land-people energy transfer thingy will come with the Russia/China installment. It's setting up to be another MPreg doozy. Joan of Arc Rise & Execution = April, 1429 - January 9th, 1431. Arthur's love for Francis is a scary thing. Damara is the Celtic fertility goddess for Beltaine and the merry month of May. Cymry is another name for Wales.

**Translations listed at the end.**

Fandom: Hetalia

Summary: Canada shows some magic. England knows how to hold a grudge.

Pairings: France-Francis/England-Arthur, America-Alfred/Canada-Matthew, Past France/Joan of Arc

Warnings: Shonen-Ai, Possible OOC, Mpreg, Incest, Angst, Cursing

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fan fiction. In certain cases incidents, characters and timelines have been changed for dramatic purposes. Certain characters may be composites, or entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

**Changes - France x England (Part III) **

XXX

England was well into his second trimester by the time Canada showed up. He didn't blame the boy. Knowing America's feelings, the pregnant man felt lucky to see his second child at all. "Come here and give us a hug. What's with the face? Do I look that bad?"

Blinking back tears of relief, Matthew carefully hugged his other father. "No, you look wonderful. I tried to come sooner, but you know how Alfred can be."

Arthur laid back with a sigh. "Yes, I do, especially when it concerns my living or dying. Is he still carrying on about the last World Meeting?"

Canada's eyes nervously avoided England's. "We've had another meeting since then. The Earth Bank President attended. The organization is calling for a formal investigation into the World Recession. They believe Alfred's Boss isn't doing enough to rectify the situation."

England gritted his teeth. "Does Alfred condemn me for this act as well?"

Matthew's gaze dropped to his shoes. "He thinks if you kept your mouth shut the investigation would have ended with Greece."

Arthur placed a shaking hand over his lower belly, reminding himself to keep calm. "America needs to realize heavy-handed actions have longstanding consequences. As long as I'm alive, I will do everything I can to ensure my past mistakes will not be repeated by my children."

England noticed Canada jump at the word 'children.' A bushy eyebrow rose with curiosity. "By the way, where is Alfred?"

Matthew cocked his head, listening to an inner tune only he could hear. "He's sulking on the sofa. Papa's in the kitchen baking more bread to go with your soup."

Arthur's head slightly lifted. "It's amazing how well you took to magic. I think you're even better than me. Wales will be so pleased. Brother's been worried the old ways would be lost with him. He's arriving next week to watch over me until the baby's born."

Canada instantly perked up. "Uncle Cymry's going to be your midwife? I'm relieved. He's almost as good as China when it comes to medicinal herbs and magic.

England frowned. "You've talked to Yao about magic?"

Matthew shrugged. "Anything to help my people. In a way, China didn't teach me anything original. He just took the lessons I learned from the Native Americans, Uncle Cymry, and Papa and explained them better."

Arthur felt intrigued. "That lying frog. All these years your Papa's sworn up-and-down he knows nothing about magic."

Canada giggled. "Papa doesn't. At least, not in the way we recognize it."

England's frown deepened. "What does he do?"

Matthew tilted his head again. "Alfred's fallen asleep. I'm not good at explaining, so I'll show you instead."

Arthur's eyes widened as Canada sat beside him and gently embraced his body. "Matthew? I'm not sure about this."

Canada chuckled. "Don't worry, Dad. This is actually good for the baby."

England was about to raise another feeble objection when an overpowering surge of pure energy raced through his ill body. The action took only a minute but seemed to last a century.

"Angleterre!"

Arthur returned from the momentary nirvana. Bleary gaze quick to find a frantic flour-speckled Frenchman panting in the doorway.

England raised a limp hand towards the funny sight. "Hello. Ya want some? It's some great shit."

Francis strode up in a rare fury. Fist raised for quick retribution. "Matthieu! What you have done?"

Canada burrowed further against England's humming body. "Ne frappez pas, Papa! Permettez-moi d'expliquer!

France lowered his fist, but the fire in his eyes remained. "I am listening."

Matthew felt frightened, but Arthur's petting helped him along. "Remember when you taught me how to heal the land and make the crops grow better? China showed me how to amplify the effect and transfer the energy to another host. It's not a lot. Just enough until Uncle Cymry gets here."

Francis leaned forward with squinted eyes. "Oui. China also has over a billion people, the land masses of himself and his mate, Russia, and the added energy of the whole Asian family."

Canada's face brightened. "Isn't it great? The power flows through them so naturally. During the last G20 meeting, the energy zinged back-and-forth like lightning. I wish Alfred could see it."

France shook his head. "Je remercie le Seigneur, l'Amérique ne peut pas. Matthieu, the shamans of your land would never allow you to drain energy for another country. Where are you getting all this extra power?"

Matthew hid his face in Arthur's hair. "America."

Francis's hand hit his forehead. "Does he know about this?"

Canada shivered in England's comforting embrace. "No. But he wastes so much! I could siphon off half of his energy and he wouldn't even feel it. The shamans of his land permit me because I swore I would use the power only for healing purposes... and they hate Alfred."

Arthur raised his head. "Francis. Go back downstairs and make sure Alfred's still asleep. Matthew and I need to talk about this new development alone."

Instantly suspicious, France placed his hands on his hips. "Pourquoi?"

England held Canada closer. "Jehanne."

Francis's hands dropped. His lip curled back into an unattractive snarl. "You dare!"

Arthur's glare stopped his husband cold. "I will not argue about this! It is time Matthew understood how bad things can become with Alfred."

France's eyes filled with misery. "Do you truly believe America would be so brutal to my boy?"

England ran his hand through Canada's golden hair. "I raised him. Didn't I?"

With a defeated air, Francis turned to leave. "Dinner should be ready soon. I will make sure Alfred remains downstairs."

Arthur continued to rock the well-meaning distraught nation in his arms. "Thank you, love."

XXX

"Who was Jehanne, Dad?"

England's hands stilled. "Jehanne. Joan of Arc. Saint Joan. One of my greatest enemies and your Papa France's one true love. A being of irreproachable life, a good Christian, possessed of the virtues of humility, honesty and simplicity. Everything I could and would never be. God, I loved it when she burned. The smell. The sound. I can hear her screams for mercy even now. Glorious."

A shocked Canada pulled away from his father's arms only to fall onto the floor. "Daddy, stop. I hate it when you're like this."

Turned to the side, Arthur smirked at his son. "Brings back bad memories. Doesn't it? Let me tell you something, Boy. I taught Alfred that betrayal should always be met by a punishment far exceeding the actual wrongdoing. A lesson America took to heart. You hate when I'm like this? Imagine how Alfred will react once he discovers what you've been doing."

Cowering on the floor, Matthew hid his face against his knees. "He's been so angry lately. I couldn't tell him! America would let you and the baby die if he had his way. I'm strong. I can take whatever he dishes out."

England's smirk grew bigger. "France told me the exact same thing after the Battle of Patay. The cocky son-of-a-bitch was so sure of his 'pure love,' Joan. Idiot really should have protected her better. The fool tried so hard to get her back once I captured her. Thank the Lord for corrupt Church officials. I prolonged her suffering as long as I could. Once she died, my men exposed her burned body to the masses and then I had the carcass burned two more times."

"Francis watched the whole spectacle while I watched him. Never before nor since has your Papa ever looked so beautiful. For a parting shot, I promised to give her remains to him, but then my men 'accidentally' dropped them into the Seine. Even Prussia found the act cold-hearted. It served France right, trying to give his love to someone else. I never cared what your Papa did with his dick, but his heart and soul belong to me."

With face still hidden, Canada shook his head. "Alfred's not like that! He's not!"

Using what little strength he had, England grabbed Matthew's hair and pulled until tear-filled violet-blue eyes met fierce emerald green. "Yes. He. Is. And it's time to stop denying the truth, if you wish to survive this farce of a marriage he's cornered you into."

Canada looked to an exasperated England for answers. Lower lip trembling uncontrollably. "I-I-I j-j-just w-w-want to do the r-r-right thing. W-w-why do I always have to suffer for it?"

Pirate Hooligan Arthur left as quickly as he arrived.

Father England opened his arms for a hug which Canada hastily leaped into.

Arthur crooned as Matthew cried in his embrace. "A being of irreproachable life, possessed of the virtues of humility, honesty and simplicity. Such a rarity will always be coveted by the fallen in this world. It's why your Papa loved you at first sight. It's also why America will never let you go. I'm sorry, Matthew. Saints were meant to suffer and burn."

Matthew managed to calm down a little. "I think China had an idea of what I planned to do. Yao warned me it was imperative, at all times, to receive permission from the other country. To take power without giving something equal or greater in return would invite bad luck into my house. He seemed to speak from prior experience."

England smiled. "Well, China is over four thousand years old. I'm sure all his lessons come from past experiences."

Arthur's rocking halted with Canada's next action.

Matthew placed a warm palm over the bump where his sibling lay sleeping. "I'm not a lovesick fool like Papa was. From our first meeting, America never played fair with me. I asked Damara what I could do so Alfred wouldn't make my land and people suffer once he discovered my deceit."

England's heart filled with dread. The older nation placed his hand over Canada's. "No, Matthew. This path will lead to heartbreak and ruin for you."

Canada stared down at their hands. "Something equal or greater in return. Damara told me America will forgive all if I do this one thing."

Arthur raised his hands to cradle Matthew's face. "Listen to me! Alfred is at the exact same stage I was when I burned Joan of Arc at the stake. Francis swore he would never talk to me again. He made good on the promise until the two of you came into our lives. We could have been a happy family, but I used the both of you to keep your Papa in line. When it stopped working, I took you away from him. In return, he helped America to leave me."

England sighed with self-disgust. "Even then I didn't learn. Years later, I took advantage of China and made him give birth to my child. I didn't give a damn whether he suffered or not. I only wanted my son. I should have known better. Yao never complained. From birth, Hong was his baby. As soon as the blasted lease was up, he ran back to his mother's arms. I never stood a chance."

Canada looked up. "Dad, it's no secret how you played with Papa's feelings. It's also why there's nothing Alfred can pull which I haven't seen before. About Hong Kong. Umm. Remember what I told you about China's knowledge of medicinal herbs?"

England nodded, lowering his hands to cover his belly.

Matthew scratched the back of his head with a small laugh. "Being an immortal Ancient, Yao should be fertile for all time. China's been taken advantage of before, but he never conceived until Hong. When he became pregnant with Russia's babies, he told me he had to stop drinking a special herbal contraceptive for over six months to ensure conception would occur."

Arthur's mouth dropped open. "I don't believe it. All this time, I thought…"

Canada shrugged. "I understand where you're coming from. The point is I can either surrender like France or be devious like China. I decided, if I go through with this, to choose China's way."

England directed a rueful gaze towards his baby bump. "I'm a horrible parent. I've failed at every chance. What was I thinking? This is no 'cure.' If I survive, I'll let your Papa raise the baby and stay out of its life. Do everyone a favor."

"Her."

Arthur glanced up with alarm. "What?"

Matthew bent forward with a small smile. Eyes alight with merriment. "She says she's not an 'it.' She's your daughter. Her name is Rose and you bloody well better remember it."

Hearing a firm hand rap at the door, the startled pair turned to spy a shocked flour-covered Frenchman in the doorway. "I came to announce dinner is ready. The baby… She is a girl?"

Arms wrapped tight around his middle. England shined with a bold light France had not seen for a long time. "My baby- No… Our baby's name is Rose."

Francis was on Arthur in a flash. Holding his beloved tight, he covered his spouse's face with floury kisses. "Merci. Merci. Je ne mérite pas de telles bénédictions."

England returned as many of the kisses as he could. "Forgive. Please say you forgive me."

France nuzzled England's cheek. "For what?"

The rare pleading in Arthur's voice broke Francis's heart. "Everything."

France hastily showed England why the act was called French kissing. The man relented only when he felt his mate struggling for air. "I forgave you long ago, Angleterre. Forgive yourself so our Rose may grow in peace."

Arthur sobbed on Francis's strong shoulder, releasing centuries of pent-up feelings in one huge bawl.

In between petting England's back, France felt a soft nudge to his own. He looked up to smile at his other gift from God. "I think I shall be eating dinner up here tonight. Alfred's already started. You'd better hurry before it's all gone. Je vous remercie, mon petit ange."

Matthew kissed both parents before joining his husband downstairs. "I don't need thanks, Papa. I was born to do this."

XXX

Broad Translations:

Ne frappez pas, Papa! Permettez-moi d'expliquer! = Do not strike, Papa! Allow me to explain!

Oui. = Yes.

Je remercie le Seigneur, l'Amérique ne peut pas. = I thank the Lord, America cannot.

Pourquoi? = Why?

Merci. = Thank you.

Je ne mérite pas de telles bénédictions. = I do not deserve such blessings.

Je vous remercie, mon petit ange. = I thank you, my little angel.


End file.
